


No Rest for the Wicked

by Salamandriod



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salamandriod/pseuds/Salamandriod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'You started banging at my door loudly at 3 am bc you got the wrong apartment and now i’m inviting you in for tea to bitch about the person you thought lived here' AU</p><p>AKA The early bird gets the worm, or, in this case, the hot guy's number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Another happy birth to Stephanie! Sorry if this one seems a bit too hastily written in comparison to last years.

Jim wasn’t particularly aware of when he passed out. He vaguely recalled seeing the light from his clock wash his bedroom in a green glow around 1:30 AM, but he wasn’t sure how long after that it took for him to pass out.

 

In his defense, he’d spent every night the past week out late and waking up early. It was what he had to do to get by, going to class and building the base of his business. All these sleepless nights would be worth it once he had the money and power that he rightfully deserved.

 

At the moment, he just wanted to get some much needed rest.

 

When he woke, the first thing that Jim realized was that it was still pitch black in his room, without even a trace of sunlight to illuminate everything. He muttered a choice selection of curses under his breath, then pressed his face into his pillow, willing himself to get back to sleep.

 

It took him a few moments to realize just what had woken him up. Suddenly he was all too aware of a pounding at his front door and some inaudible shouting. Jim jolted awake with the fear that one of his clients had followed him home. It was unlikely, he made sure of that, but if it was a client then he was bound to have a bad time.

 

He pushed himself out of his bed with a groan and paused for a moment to stop the world from spinning around him before grabbing a knife. He padded out to the entryway and turned on the light by the door. If he was going to get attacked, he wanted to know who did it.

 

He hesitated for a moment, trying to steel himself for whatever was to come, only to be interrupted by another banging on his door. Jim muttered anther handful of curses, then leaned up to look through the peephole.

 

To say that he was surprised by what he saw would be an understatement. He’d expected a man, maybe a few, with guns and knives and murderous glints in their eyes. Instead what he got was a drunken man only a few years older than himself.

 

He opened the door after a moment’s more hesitation, casually tossing the knife aside.

 

“Where’s Drew?” the man demanded, stepping inside Jim’s flat before he could so much as get a word in.

 

“I don’t-“

 

“I know he’s here, he fuckin’ told me he lived here!”

 

“Whoever the fuck you are, you need to-“

 

Before Jim could finish telling the bastard to leave, the man collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Somehow, Jim managed to get back to sleep. Even after being scared awake, even after dragging the unconscious stranger to his sofa, nothing could prevent him from getting his rest.

 

He woke up early even without an alarm on Saturdays, too used to his rigorous schedule to sleep in. He took it as a good thing, at least for today, since when he woke the stranger was still asleep on his sofa.

 

Jim glanced at the man’s sleeping form as he strode by into the kitchen, trying to memorize his face, just in case he was just literally the worst assassin anyone could have sent. He made breakfast for himself quickly and practically scarfed it down, not wanting to leave a single moment of opportunity for the stranger to possibly attack him. Of course, he kept the knife from earlier by his plate, just to be sure.

 

He kept flicking his gaze over to the man while he ate, just waiting for him to wake up. He must have been just as exhausted as he was, since he seemed to be sleeping peacefully, despite being in a stranger’s flat. The stranger still isn’t up by the time Jim finishes his breakfast, so Jim relaxed, assuring himself that no assassin would be this terrible as he cleaned his dishes.

 

He took his time washing the dishes off, then, after a moment’s delibertation, pulled out a mug for some tea. He deserved it, after dealing with the night that he’d had. He chanced a glance back at the sofa as he did so, only to find a pair of blue eyes staring back at him.

 

Immediately Jim yelped and jumped back, almost dropping his mug on the ground.  

 

“It’s alright to stare, you know. I like it,” the stranger said as he pushed himself up. He held his hands out sheepishly in front of him to try and placate Jim.

 

“Just who the fuck are you, and who’s _Drew_?” Jim hissed, inching back over to the kitchen table. He needed that knife, just in case.

 

The stranger, for his part, seemed confused for a few moments before Jim could see the light of realization flick on behind his eyes. “I’m Sebastian,” he replied suddenly, doing a little mock bow. “And Drew’s an arsehole. I take it I thought this was his apartment last night?”

 

Jim nodded slowly, unsure of what to think exactly. He’d been prepared for the worst, for an assassin or an abuser looking for an ex, but he’d never expected Sebastian to be so understanding. “I’m Jim,” he replied at last. He glanced down at the knife on the table, then the mug in his hand. “Would you like some tea?”

 

Sebastian smiled at him. “I’d love some, actually.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

Ten minutes later they were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table with a mug in hand each, Jim’s knife sitting forgotten on the counter.

 

“So, just why were you looking for Drew whilst half drunk at 3 AM?” Jim asked nonchalantly.

 

Sebastian snickered into his tea, downing a sip before speaking. “That fucker pissed off two blokes at the bar we were at, then ran off to let me deal with them. He’s not going to have a good time when I see him next,” he explained with a shrug. “I must have misread the number on your apartment in the dark.”

 

Jim snorted, amused at the story. “So you just beat two blokes up and ran all the way here to beat him up too?” Sebastian nodded, and Jim’s jaw dropped. “You don’t look like you got into a fight last night,” he replied quickly, trying to find fault in his story.

 

“That’s because I know what I’m doing, even while drunk,” he smirked. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and took another sip of his tea. “But I do have a couple of bruises. Nothing on my face, though. Thank God.”

 

“What? Afraid you wouldn’t be able to flirt with anyone for a few days?” Jim retorted sarcastically.

 

“Not like you were enjoying my good looks earlier.”

 

“I was not!”

 

Sebastian didn’t bother responding to that, simply raising an eyebrow and drinking some more of his tea.

 

Jim glared at him, realizing quickly that there was nothing he could say to convince him otherwise. And, well, to be fair, he was rather pretty. Not that he’d dare tell him that now.

 

They chatted for a while, even after both of their mugs were cold and empty, chatting about classes and whatnot. They found that they got along better than either of them could have anticipated, despite their differences. If Sebastian hadn’t said he was going off into the army once he received his degree at the end of the semester, he would have offered him a job. Taking on two men while half drunk and getting away with barely a bruise was quite the skill to have in the criminal underground.

 

Their conversation ground to a temporary stop when Jim’s phone lit up with a message. He glanced at it quickly to see how important it was, then set his phone aside again, intent on picking the conversation back up. Sebastian, it seemed, had different ideas.

 

“I should probably get going. I’ve taken up enough of your day as it is. Sorry for… whatever the hell I did at 3 AM,” he said sheepishly as he stood up.

 

“The message wasn’t anything, don’t feel like you need to leave because of that,” Jim replied immediately. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d rather liked the company.

 

“It’s not that,” he assured. “I should just get home and take a shower and change. And look for Drew with a clear mind.”

 

Slowly, Jim nodded in understanding. Sebastian was right about that. He got up as well and showed Sebastian to the door, intending to linger in the doorway until he was out of sight.

 

“Hey,” Sebastian said suddenly, pausing on the doorstep and turning around to look at Jim again. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Jim replied with a small nod.

 

“Good. You’re too cute to just let go of,” Sebastian replied, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Jim’s lips. Without waiting for Jim to respond, he turned on his heel and walked off, turning down the corner and disappearing.

 

Jim could only stare in stunned silence as Sebastian vanished, his mind having ground to a halt. He slammed the door shut and returned to the kitchen, picking up the mugs as he did so. He dropped them in the sink, then noticed a bit of paper folded by the faucet. Curiously he opened it only to find a phone number and a heart scrawled in it.

 

Somehow, Jim didn’t think he’d ever let go of Sebastian, either.


End file.
